Witch Myth

As I lit my own way

through the darkness,

the forest closing in,

trees speaking in tongues,

ancient tantric vowls,

whispers of vengeance

and loving passion,

so deep,

swept like wind

through the rain,

claiming her in the twilight,

legs apart,

cumming into

the sunrise,

lift her up,

and into that forgotten

space of shadows and spice.

But then

in a quick moment,

that went unnoticed by most,

there was a reality shift,

a quick change

in the dressing room of

my favorite transvestite.

Flashes and liquor

and smoking ashes,

mirrors sparkled

back and talked to us

of the future and

prophesized in the form of erotica.

Damn you,

I can clearly see your broken soul,

left to wander round and waltz

back and forth in your bones,

aching and sorrowful.

I just wanted to

warm your dark nights

with the blues

and tales of cathedral lightning,

soft caresses,

tenderness and

sleep walking,

fucking in the morning,

cold breezes through the window,

tears of joy.

Your absurdity

astounds me,

witch mything me to hell and

early graves.

no offense but

fuck you.
Drink your poison,

and I shall drink mine deary,

you weary and wrenching

in your small mind,

closed and only fading in the light,

then sweet and sour,

bitter tones to

pulsing ethers,

rising up into

the celestial sphere,

and laying my head

down to sleep,

rattlesnake requiems

lull me on

to the eternal illumination.

I shall be a phoenix soon

to burn and fuck and burst and die,

and then with heaving and great shaking

am reborn.

Tantric Vibrations

In the night,

I dreamt our reality awake,

square and rectangle bedrooms

filled with naked bodies,

men and women,

telling half-truths mixed

with cum and sweat

and lingering lies,

dark staircases in the void,

winding downward

to nighttime visions

of fucking in doorway frames,

muses and seraphim,

cunt and dripping,

asses slapping against hard cocks,

oral sex in showers,

weeping and craving,

dancing and fringing on

astral minds,

chaos and light,

fire burning embers,

teasing and quivering

through the tasty twilight,

ghosts and their peripheries,

erotic choreography that you like to watch,

me swaying to the rhythm of the witching gods,

magic told through the body,

urging on prophecies and tantric sex

with supple jazz and vibrations

and telepathy voices

in the early mornings.

I woke up and heard you

and died,

wanting that cold wind

on my hot face,

driving slow and then fast,

down winding roads,

over mountains,

in valleys with stars

describing us,

entwining you and I,

making us drench in classic art and reverie.

Born again,

we unite in smoke and illusion.

Spice

The weather was lonely

along with the Jack of hearts,

who landed in my periphery

and of course with the

stolen Queen’s tarts and affections,

funny- oh irony,

stargazers stuck with

grey skied nights and

demon eyes,

silly dragon tongued boy,

breathing fire and

sex scented bedrooms

lit up the dark,

laughing and fucking and bending,

in and out of breath.

You and I

came together in

strange times of the Spider and

the cypher prophets,

floated along in the morning

and becoming ghosts

in the nighttime.

It’s gypsy witching

season friends,

I crave to hear your howls

and stomps on the earth,

changing the world

creating magic and sex and

brilliant sensual gospels.

I want to hear your wildness.

I dare you to be bold.

Affection drenched

in sarcasm,

we can fuck to the

rhythms of those sultry saints,

rock back and forth,

side to side,

in and out,

pulsing cum and revolution,

art designed

in thunderstorms and catacombs,

I’ll kiss you
soft and rough,

moaning out my religion

on your skin and bones.

Let me in,

I’ll undress your energy,

melt your breath into mine,

haunt and whisper,

taunt and tease,

dripping lace and lust,

spices and sensations linger,

as I dive into you,

and we are overcome.  

Dark Matter

And the reaper

came a-reapin,

left me weepeing,

in the morning,

you teething on my bones,

distraction was complete,

wink your eyes

and howl to the gods

of carnivale

as your hands remove me

from spacetime.

Try to erase me,

I dare you with fangs glistening,

hold on,

take it off,

leaving the body,

bending and twisting

into those

illuminated collective ethers,

to waltz round at will

in your energy,

among others,

some dull and wrinkled,

others pulsing and throbbing,

brilliant metaphors pursuing  their

counterparts in the land

of dreams and tarot cards.

The Hierophant coughs and sees,

the Star listens intently,

the Devil laughs,

and the Universe nods

her head to the new rhythms

a-comin in

through the cracks in now drenched Manhattan,

your cries ring loud,

I hear you.

Druid priestesses

in robes of red

danced the walk of the dead,

witches burning

in sad Salem,

all detailed in visions

leaving me to stare out

the open window,

I lost my real in the Imaginary

and didn’t matter

to mind.

The leaves fell and

I thought of father’s death,

nightmare eyes looking

through slanted blinds,

nature talking back

to us in our sleep,

men licking their lips,

friends turning to fucking,

then ending just in a whisper,

goodbye.